Coming back to Hogwarts always was bitter sweet. On one hand, she would leave the high expectations of her home, though these would shortly be replaced by those of her peers. She would see her friends but this would always come with their inability to understand her and what she wished to stand for. Her very presence at Hogwarts came misrepresented as the Head Girl badge on her shoulder marked her as the stereotypical nerd and good doer rather than the individual she sought to be. She disliked the box her school framed her into. She disliked being the intelligent side kick in the Harry Potter golden group. She was finally fed up of surrounding herself with friends that didn't know who she was.

'Just one more year' she mumbled under her breath, all too eager to get it started it only to see it end sooner. Granted, she wasn't exactly unhappy, but the possibility of starting anew in the working world, this time without the adolescent fears of her earlier years at school, was all too alluring. After all, a great deal of who she was here had been determined during that very first year. She had been so excited at the prospect of attending, she'd read everything she could. Finding that her knowledge alienated her from her peers, she buried herself even deeper in knowledge, too unsure of herself to try to make friends. She had relied on her in-class superiority to compensate for her insecurities on her looks and personality. The only time she let her true self shine through that year consisted of a few measly words directed towards McGonnagal after the Troll attack. Luck has it, those moments granted her the friendship of the golden duo, now the golden trio: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. And though they never did try to understand her and would often times laugh at her 'mood swings', she was ever grateful to have them by her side. After all, it had taken up to her 3rd year to be able to stand up for herself and it had only been her 6th year when she had dared sit on her own in the dinning room without caring what anybody thought of it. The second blessing that came attached to her unlikely friends came in the form of the youngest of the red headed family: Ginny Weasley.

From the time they met during the summer before her second year, Hermione found a kindred spirit in the younger girl. Often times, she would confess to fears she herself knew not to possess and the wise young woman always judged her worries objectively and carefully. She trusted the youngest Weasley with her many secrets and with her life. She was the high point of her Hogwarts days: a true sister amidst a mass of strangers.

But as she mounted the Hogwarts express for what would be her last train ride to school, she made quick note of just how much she'd changed. She had entered school being unsure of herself, self conscious of her looks, terrified of failing, and ever so exuberant to make friends she tended to scare them all away. By now, though, she considered herself a woman. She had grown into her looks, her frizzy hair an asset, not a hindrance. She felt at ease in her own skin, walking head held high with confidence as she walked down the long corridors of the train. She was kind towards her peers, but knew how to stand up without them. For that matter, though she had once feared solitude, it was now a close friend. So she spared Ron and Harry a quick hug and headed towards the back of the train, finding herself face to face with the Head Girl/Boy cabin which she had dreamt of since the start of her Hogwarts years. Granted, the recognition would have meant more to her younger self, for during her first few years she wanted nothing more than academic success to compensate for her personal lacks. Now, she regarded the badge as both a gift and a curse, though she settled on making the most out of it. However, as she swung the door open, she found none other than the tormentor of her childhood years: Draco Malfoy.

"Surprised to see me, Granger" he remarked, a cocky grin on his face as she stared at him in momentary shock. But she said nothing of it and moved her packs in, tossing them next to his own and making her way to her side of the cabin.

"Not at all, Malfoy" she replied, equally unfazed by their current condition. "Aside from the somewhat odd looking combinations of colors" she pointed at the all too sharply contrasted reds and golds vs the silvers and greens in the room decor "I see nothing worth startling me here". She started to shuffle through her bags, trying to find a robe to air out before her arrival at Hogwarts.

"I see. So my presence isn't startling?" he continued, though she could tell her lack of recognition of him being there as she carried on with her tidings annoyed him. Her back towards him, she allowed herself the tinniest grin. "Or perhaps startling is not the word... perhaps you welcome my presence. Though that would be surprising indeed considering you've always had a poor taste in men". She nearly laughed. His eternal desperado move: attack her relationships with Harry and Ron. Anyone who bothered to look at them could read there was absolutely nothing but friendship in the trio. However, at one point in her life, such jibes would have left her enraged. Now, they were nothing more than vaguely amusing.

"Just because I might have poor taste in men" she conceded smugly, barely able to keep a straight face as she continued. "Does not mean I would find the company of a mere boy alluring". She spared him a glance for the second time since she'd entered and was pleasantly surprised to see him look more than a tad bit deflated. Granted, Draco Malfoy would never look anything but cocky, but she had learned to read a little bit more into the smaller signs of his moods. Firstly, questioning his manhood was always a blow to the ever so confident Malfoy who had probably lain with every woman he'd ever desired. Secondly, mentioning his status as second best to her in most classes would sure make him angry. And thirdly, a strategy she never relied on and she was ashamed to say Ron and Harry used all too much, Draco Malfoy was always hurt when you spoke of his father's fall before the hands of Harry Potter. The first time Harry had brought it up, she noticed almost instantly Malfoy's eyes dim out and she realized a few days later (having granted him more hours of thought than he deserved) that he had truly been hurt. She had decided to never bring it up herself and frowned at her friends whenever they did. For however much she disliked the man, she had no place to speak of his family, despite his many attacks on hers.

"Snappy as always, Granger" he replied, somewhat tartly. "Glad to hear all that trailing behind the Potter's shadow hasn't left you completely without spirit. After all, I would have never thought you'd make such a nice lap dog".

"It will take much more than your belief that I am his side kick, lap dog, if you will, for me to concede to it as well. After all, in this, you know nothing." She pushed her bags against the corner and sat with a book on her hands. The conversation had gone on just about long enough "As someone who is considered by most his peers to be Lord Voldemort's lap dog, I'd think you of all people would understand. Judge not cause you shall be judged in turn". She then propped the book open on the first empty page and, taking out a quill, began writing, completely blocking out the snarling Slytherin before her.

Like all her diary like rambles, it was never anything too fancy. No long recollections of her day. No letters to 'Dear Diary'. No, she simply wrote down whatever thoughts popped up. Something she could go back to an actually think and analyze. Such small thoughts slowly progressed to form up her conclusions on the world around her. And as she sat there, writing away, another thought occurred to her, of a strange and peculiar nature. She spared at glance at Malfoy, noting his arrogant pose as he too read in his corner. She allowed herself the smallest of a grin as the pieces came together. In her notebook, she then wrote:

For though there is much to dislike in someone so vain and standoffish, I can say but one thing in his favor. There is too much pride in that one to become anyone's lapdog, because above all else and what Voldemort might threaten to do, this one is a Malfoy and, unlike his father, such a simple title means something.

She wrote down a few more random thoughts before placing it down on the table besides her and looking up to her cabin companion.

"I'll take the first shift" she decided out loud, not bothering with his confirmation. "You can take yours in an hour. We'll also have to work when the first years are unloading so I suggest you get some rest". He barely acknowledged her words but she knew he'd heard. Taking a deep breath to summon whatever patience she could, she turned to leave the cabin. The room was just a little bit too tense for her and she was grateful to be able to stretch out if only to boss around unruly first years.